A Moment with Rodney
by alastria7
Summary: Rodney asked for Weir's help, but when she attempts to give it, he has a little trouble accepting it.


Title: A Moment with Rodney

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: All things Stargate Atlantis belong to those who conceived and wrote and produced it, etc. Not me. No

money earned.

Synopsis: Rodney asked for Weir's help, but when she attempts to give it, he has a little trouble accepting it.

"Elizabeth, if you try to do that one more time, I swear I'll..."

Weir frowned. "If you need me to make it an order, Rodney, I can do that."

"With respect," McKay began, before revising his words with, "Well, OK, maybe not that much respect, as you clearly don't appear to be latching onto the principle of the thing here – free-will and all that – but I..."

"Put it down!" Weir's order was accompanied by an expression that would have challenged almost anyone. Except Rodney.

"It's mine!"

"Not once you've handed it over. NOW," she pushed, stretching out a hand, palm up, and raising a stern eyebrow, "give it to me. Please." She wiggled her outstretched fingers.

"Better do as the Boss Lady says," John Sheppard drawled, perched on the side of a desk in the control room, watching the drama with humor in his eyes.

Rodney turned on him. "It's alright for you. She lets you eat that... that thing. And you enjoy it. It's not fair!" He drew the doughnut in tighter to his chest, protectively.

"Do you not think," decided Teyla, taking her eyes from the half-eaten vegetable in Sheppard's hand, "that a carrot wins out over a doughnut every time, when it comes to the gentle art of dieting?" She smiled winningly at the challenged scientist.

"What would you know," Rodney near-shouted. "You've never had to lose a twitch of weight in your entire life. I mean look at you!"

"On the contrary," Teyla objected, still smiling. "Had I allowed my mouth to follow the calling of my greed, I should have borne a very different shape today."

Her empty hand still demanding a passenger, Weir took a step towards McKay, who recognized a threat when he saw one and drew his beloved and as yet unfinished doughnut even closer to his heart, shielding it with his other hand.

And so Weir tried reason. She dropped her hand and folded her arms instead. "When you came to me, remember – said you wanted to lose weight and asked for my help, because you didn't think you could achieve it on your own… that was you, by the way, wasn't it?" She paused for effect, knowing perfectly well it had been him. "I agreed to help you. But you're making it very difficult for me."

"I could finish the doughnut for him," John offered airily, serving to incense Rodney, who had almost been swayed by Weir's words.

"Oh, yes, and you'd love doing that, wouldn't you; right there, in front of me. Smiling. Torturer! Thanks a million, pal, but no deal."

"John, you're not helping," Weir warned.

McKay shot her an agonized glance.

"Now," Weir continued to Rodney, smiling wanly. "The doughnut?" She wiggled her outstretched hand towards the offending article again.

"I'll share it with you," McKay offered hopefully, brightening at the idea as he prepared to break the remainder of the doughnut in half.

"I don't want half," Weir said firmly.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" McKay asked, amazed that someone should turn down his more than generous offer.

"I want it all," she finished, glaring at him and standing her ground.

John Sheppard sniggered and Teyla came up behind him and tugged at his jacket, shushing him good-naturedly.

"The lady wants your doughnut," urged Ronon cheerfully, joining in with what, to everyone but Rodney, was a bit of fun. "I wouldn't disappoint her."

"Well she's not having it," Rodney informed him, wild-eyed. "No one's having it." He opened his mouth and presented the disputed item to his lips in a flash.

But Ronon was quicker. Rapidly checking that the path beyond Rodney was devoid of both people and anything else he might damage, he drew his gun and fired.

The doughnut died.

Dr Rodney McKay nearly died too. Of shock.

Weir exploded. "Ronon! Was that entirely necessary?" She glared at the Satedan.

"He doesn't have a doughnut any more," Ronon offered, with a grin, sharing that grin with Sheppard.

"He doesn't have his wits any more, either," McKay bit back, his face drained of color and his expression that of a man looking for a lawyer. "I can't believe you just did that. You might have shot me!"

"Too good for that," Ronon said without ego. "What I aim for, I hit."

"Yes, well," Elizabeth interrupted, "thank you for that, if thank you is the appropriate thing to be saying, here." She took her supposed-to-be-reprimanding eyebrows from the big guy and looked at McKay, working hard to suppress the grin that was trying to happen on her face as she told the hapless man, "I trust you've learned that eating the wrong foods can damage your health?"

Teyla snickered.

"It's not fair!" Rodney bleated.

"You asked for Weir's help. She gave it to you," Ronon pointed out. "What's unfair about that?"

"But you shot it!" McKay blurted.

Sheppard wore a huge grin on his face. He'd been shocked by Ronon's action but had more than seen the funny side of it. Time for a little more fun, at the poor scientist's cost, he decided. "We should do something about that," he assured McKay and, activating his ear-piece radio (or, at least, appearing to activate it) he barked urgently, "Medical team to the gate room, stat."

As Weir looked ready to reprimand the colonel for horsing around with her medical resources, Rodney objected to anyone who would listen, "He shot it! There isn't much to save!"

Sheppard caught Weir's eye and let her know, unspoken, that he'd been kidding and she relaxed.

But Rodney caught the look. "Oh, that's right. Make fun of me," he rounded on Sheppard. "Do you have any idea how hard it is? Hmm? To be drawn to all the things you shouldn't eat and have absolutely no willpower to be able to stop it? Of course you don't. You can eat practically anything you want and never put on weight," he accused forcefully.

"There's an art to it, Rodney," Sheppard defended, with a grin.

"What – like," McKay began seriously, "sicking up, or something?"

"Rodney!" said Weir, shocked.

"Exercise, Rodney," John continued, obviously enjoying himself. "You know, moving around, burning off a few calories. Running – whatever. Alien concept to you, I know, but you should try it sometime."

"I could teach you to fight, if you want?" Ronon offered helpfully, not hiding his mirth.

McKay's eyes went wide as he looked around the sea of smiling faces and backed off. "I don't know why I stay here," he mused aloud. "I don't know why I don't just gate back to Earth and stay there, stay somewhere where I don't get this kind of hassle."

Weir jumped all over it. "Right. Back to Earth. Good plan. I'll get started on the paperwork tomorrow. You pack. You'll ship out at 14:00 hours, OK?" She folded her arms and stared him out.

"What?"

"You're right, she continued. "You don't need this. You don't need to be surrounded by people who care enough to want to help you – how infuriating for you."

"I shall miss you, Rodney," Teyla said somberly.

McKay had been staring at Weir since her outburst and, now that the conversation had died down, he took a deep breath before telling her, "Wait right there." He glanced around. "All of you." With that he turned and took off, leaving them looking at each other and wondering.

Nearly 10 minutes later, the infuriating bundle of outbursts known as Rodney McKay had returned, clutching a large paper bag. This he thrust at Weir as he came to a halt in front of her.

Surprised, she held onto the express delivery before she dropped it. "What's this?" she asked him.

He stared at her, a million emotions passing through his expression. Wordlessly, he nodded at the bag.

Weir opened the top and peered inside.

"Care to share, Elizabeth?" John asked.

But Weir couldn't speak. She was clearly choked with emotion as she looked from the bag's assorted contents to McKay. Still in silence, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"She's never done that to me," Ronon jeered happily, realizing something special had happened, even though no one as yet knew what.

Rodney seemed a little abashed, but then he suddenly grabbed his boss and held her close, squeezing her for a moment before letting her go, with a whispered, "Thanks." Then, without daring to look at the others, he left the gate room as fast as his legs would carry him, without actually running.

Which left Weir facing the questioning glances of Ronon, Sheppard and Teyla. "Chocolate," she explained. "Doughnuts. Crisps. Cookies. Oh, and does anyone want this ice cream, before it melts?"

Rodney wanted it. But he wanted his good friends more. To help him diet. Although the fight-training offer from 'Conan' would probably never be broached again.

End

alastria 7


End file.
